King of Ice, Queen of Dreams
by Virgin Queen 15
Summary: Sarah has been swept up by her father's coworker into a business marriage and seeing as she's broke, with no chance to get herself back on her feet, she agrees to marry him. But his abuse has made her regret her choice and she calls to the Goblin King...
1. Chapter 1 Only in Your Head

Chapter 1: Only in Your Head

She smiled softly. She was back in the Labyrinth. She was home. Stepping over the dried weeds and straggled remains of dried plants. She could feel the soft, spicy desert wind blowing from the Labyrinth's direction. It smelled like dreams and childhood fancies. Her cry of joy was not a soft one and she began to run, just as she had run the first time to the Labyrinth. Outside its gates the small fairies still flit and frolicked about the flowers and weeds, this time though Sarah avoided them, remembering with a cringe the feeling of fairy fangs. She went to the doors.

This time they did not open for her, she realized with a sigh it was most likely because she had traveled to the great maze on her own this time, with no 'villain' to watch her. Those unexplained tidbits of magic throughout her frantic first journey could only have been so because of a very strange Goblin King poking his pointed nose into everything. She smiled again and pushed the doors open. From there she turned to her right, the west, for the castle lay to the south when she faced the doors. She ran.

It went just as it had before, Sarah knew the ways she went and she followed her old path quickly. She knew though that this dream could not last, but she hoped more then she had ever hoped before that maybe she could reach that castle so far from where she started. But she always woke up before she could reach it. This time, maybe, she would attain it.

The passage itself did seem swifter then all the other dream-journeys, so there was a blooming hope in her that made her smile as she accelerated through the dream. Then all at once it came to an abrupt stop. She was standing under the canopy of trees in a glittering forest. Even though her dreams were in a lacking supply of her companions from her first run, it always included this place, where she stood among the glinting and shadowed trees a small ripe, sweet smelling peach in her hands. It was here where she had woken up many times, but sometimes her sleep was too heavy to keep her from waking. So she would choose. Bite the peach and dance with _him_, or drop the peach and go to the castle to see _him_. Until that night she had always dropped the peach and raced to the castle, never quite making it. Tonight, she decided to yield to her fantasy and she bit down into the peach's succumbing flesh.

The flavor was rich, some of the juice dribbled down her chin, a right sloppy mess. Then she fell dizzily to the ground, the peach rolled away and she watched then in silent fear as the world shattered around her. She couldn't move, her body floated; stiff as a board in a strange cloudy world, the forest, the Labyrinth, all things familiar were gone. The taste of the drupe however remained sweet on her tongue.

She didn't know when the world came back, but then it was there. It wasn't the forest or any other place she knew in the Labyrinth. It wasn't even the bubble ballroom that she had been transported into when she had eaten the first peach. It was a dark room. Dark and warm. Smelled sweet, like the Labyrinth air.

She moved forward and bumped ungracefully into what felt like a bed frame pole. Rubbing her aching nose she grasped the pole with one arm and hung to it, trying to adjust he eyes to the darkness.

"Who is there?"

The voice made Sarah jump, then the room was suddenly so flooded with blue-silver light that Sarah gasped and fell back, trying to cover her stinging eyes with her hands. When she could see clearly she felt her mouth drop down slightly. Before her lying on a silk adorned bed very much fit for royalty, was a very exhausted looking Goblin King. In his ungloved hand was a glowing crystal, the source of that abominable light. He had a funny expression o his face and he sighed.

"Come to mock me again, precious?" He smirked. "My dreams make you more beautiful every time. Though I must say," He looked her up and down. "You do look a great deal like the real Sarah."

She found herself unable to speak, but a smile forced its way onto her face. She giggled a little. She felt like a blubbering school girl, blushing before the man who not long before she had considered an enemy. Well…she admitted to herself she hadn't always considered him to be such an enemy, the ballroom in the bubble…had changed her thoughts. For the better or the worse she could not say.

"You're laughing at me," He sighed. The crystal dimmed and he set it down on a pedestal beside his bed that seemed made for it. "Just as well, it's better then the other dreams."

Sarah playfully cocked her head in question. She was certain now that this was a very fantastical dream, one where she could do what she wanted. So she decided she _would_ do whatever she wanted. She slid slowly on graceful feet toward his bed again and sat on the edge, drawing up her legs under her. She had fallen asleep that night in a silky nightgown and a robe, the color of lilacs. Not usually her first choice, but every girl needs to have something to make her feel like a woman. Though she was only just twenty-one Sarah rejoiced in her secret occasional devotions to her feminine side. And a nightgown like this was a most benefitting seduction tool of her dream Goblin King.

"The other dreams…" He sighed. She nodded her head, her expression hopefully reading her intent curiosity.

"Well, they are much like this," He explained and laid back on his pillows. "Though, I must admit, some nights your costumes are…less then appropriate. Or not there at all." He laughed at himself. But Sarah frowned a little.

"Oh, now precious, don't be cross. A man can't really help himself sometimes."

_And neither can a woman._ Sarah thought. This dream was just too perfect. She smiled darkly, and moved across the bed, crawling slowly toward him. At first he didn't quite know what she was doing, the bewilderment in his eyes reminding her of a deer in headlights. How cute.

When she leaned over him, her smile lost all darkness and the soft thudding beats of her heart quickened. Their eyes were locked and the dream felt so real that Sarah almost pulled herself away, in fear that it really was not a dream and she had made a mistake.

"Sarah." His voice said it all. Everything she wanted. She moved quickly and kissed him. Short and hot and she pulled away hastily looking at his face for his reaction.

He looked shocked. Then a half-smile cracked his face and his hands reached out to her. For a moment this reminded her of Toby, when he was a baby on mornings when only she was left to fetch him for his breakfast. He would stand at the edge of his crib and squeal and laugh when she appeared at the door. Then he would stretch his arms up to her and cry with his darling voice, "Saw-wuh, Saw-wuh!" and she would smile and reach for him and cradle him against her heart.

But it wasn't Toby reaching for her in this sweetly vivid dream, it was _Jareth_. And instead of feeling what she felt for Toby, a maternal sisterly love, she felt stirring warmth that pooled in her belly and shivered its way through her entire body. She smiled to him and smoothly moved into his arms. She buried his face in his neck and kissed his warm skin, loving that he was like a very limp doll in her arms.

"This isn't real," He whispered against her hair. "You're not real." He said sadly.

Sarah pulled herself up so she could look down at him. She watched his sad eyes, their quirky mismatched irises looking up at her with such vibrancy. She smiled and decided to show this dream-Jareth that she very much was alive and that for him at least in this dream paradise she was real.

"Jareth, I am real," She whispered. "And I love you." In all honesty she did. Though it wasn't her real Jareth, the real Goblin King, she loved the man who stared up at her like she was everything he'd ever wanted.

She leaned down and kissed him. It was a long kiss this time, long and sweet and full of that flourishing passion they had both been hiding. He tasted like summer, sweet dreams, and spring rain. Everything she loved. Maybe he tasted that way because he was meant to be hers or maybe he did because she just loved him so much. She wondered then what it would be like to go a little further with him. She opened his mouth with hers and let his tongue meet hers. Melding and twisting, it was like their tongues were made to dance together. Their worlds meant to melt into each and the other. It was so much it was almost painful. Sarah knew that this was a dream, even though it felt so real and so perfect. It was too much.

Tears began to fall down her face and she had to pull herself away from him, his touch, his lips and warmth. She moved quickly across the bed to the bedpost where she clung and leaned her forehead against its cool pole. She gasped, trying to hold back her wretched sobs, but to no avail.

"Sarah." Jareth followed her and sat beside her. He tried to touch her shoulder but she shook him off, probably hurting him more then herself but she didn't care.

"I want to wake up." She whispered. "I want to wake up and make this all go away."

"You're not dreaming," He said. "Sarah, precious, did you mean what you said?"

"Yes, of course I did," Sarah gasped and cried into the soft sleeve of her robe. "I love you, but this is all a stupid dream. I dream of Underground every night."

"Tell me," He said. He gathered her up in his arms and cradled her tightly against his chest. "Tell me about your dreams."

Sarah cried but a string of explanation came with the sobs. "Each night I fall asleep and I see the Labyrinth. Each night I follow my first path, my first run. But every time I get to the peach I skip it and try to run to the castle. But tonight I bit the peach because I wanted to see you, and dance with you. I knew that this time I wouldn't have cared about anything but the dance. And you. But instead of the ballroom I dream myself here, to your bedchamber." She had to laugh a little. She looked up at him with watery eyes. "I'm a pervert."

The world around her began to fade and her tears poured faster. "No." She whispered.

"Sarah!" Jareth clutched at the air she was vanishing into. "Sarah where are you going?"

"I'm waking up." She said softly. "I love you."

"Sarah, precious," He said. "Stay here."

_If only you were real_, she thought and she opened her sleep-heavy eyes. The morning around her was unusually bright and cold. It was winter, but the chill of December hadn't made it into her apartment. She sat up in bed and peered dazed around her bedroom. With the white walls and pale blue covers on her bed, and plain woods floors, her room looked rather empty, save for one wall where painted around the French doors was the image of a great tree. At the bottom of the tree sat smiling Ludo, a cranky looking Hoggle and a courageous looking Sir Dydimus. Up almost hidden in the branches of the tree was a cocky looking barn owl. It had mismatched eyes, and a strangely wise expression.

She wiped the still damp tears from off of her face and stood. While facing the complication of the tangled cord that sealed her robe closed which had twisted over around her waist and knotted in many places during her frantic sleep she walked past the mirror. At first she hadn't noticed. But when she paused in the bathroom in front of the mirror, she turned and ran back into her bedroom.

There standing in her mirror was Jareth, wearing what he had in her dream, a baggy sleeping shirt and his trademark tights. He looked disheveled, like he'd just woken up.

"Sarah," He said. "You weren't dreaming. I'm not sure what happened, but you were in my bedchamber."

She watched him with eyes that were blooming with tears. She sucked in a labored breath and stepped forward timidly. She put her hand to the glass, but it was cold under her fingers.

He put his fingers on his side of the glass up to match hers. "You only need to call for me precious." He said gently. "And I will come."

"Jareth…you don't understand." She sighed. "I…I have…"

"Sarah!" Karen's voice was just outside the door.

"Your stepmother is with you?" He asked.

"I'll be right there Karen." Sarah looked at him with sad eyes. "I wish the Goblin King would come and take me some place to talk right now."

He flicked his wrist and they appeared together in a bubble by the looks of it. Inside one of his crystals. Sarah looked around; the ceiling rounded itself into the floor, which was covered in a glittering sheet of fog that was warm against her ankles.

"Sarah," Jareth said. "I move the stars for no one, but you."

She watched him warily. "I have wanted to be back in the Labyrinth for so long now. I've wanted to be with you again. I was so young when you first asked for me to stay with you."

"I was foolish to have wanted you to fear me," He said. "I was so used to that; I had hoped that my being your slave would have made it all better." His tone was terrifying, he sounded so sad.

"Jareth, I want to go back to the Labyrinth," She said. "I want to stay with you in Underground. As your friend, slave, servant, whatever you want. I just need to be near you and Underground, and the Labyrinth."

Jareth frowned, a look that terrified Sarah. But he moved toward her in soft easy strides and gathered her up in his arms. "I've watched you precious, you have a lovely life. Karen and Toby and Robert visit. You have a writing job and friends. Why would you want to leave it?"

"I miss the Labyrinth and everyone there." She sighed. "And you obviously don't watch everything."

He cocked his head in question. It was true though; over the years he had tried to not watch her every moment of every day, but had failed miserably. He only watched her every _other_ moment of every day. Only a bit stalker-like in personality. He asked her. "So what precious detail am I missing?"

"I'm getting married." She said, and lowered her eyes in what appeared shame.

He felt everything for a moment stop and his magic burst out of him in a single instant; he accidently froze her in time, stopping everything for a moment. He watched her still form, her face directed down, and her hand half-way through running her fingers through her hair. Even suspended, with her lips parted a bit too far, her eyes half closed she was beautiful, young, everything he'd dreamed of. He stepped toward her.

"Sarah," He whispered and moved to run his fingers over her cheekbone. "How could you do this to me?" He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

Stepping away he controlled his magic enough and released time from his invisible grip. Sarah's sigh was soft.

"I'm sorry." She whispered and little tears began to fall.

"Why?" His tone was cold. It startled her beyond speech for a moment and she looked up to see his face. But she couldn't distinguish what his expression meant. It was blank and transparent, but its filminess did not reveal the tortured heart of a man, it only showed shadow and blank white space.

"You…" She shook her head. "I suppose I'm not then." She looked anywhere around the empty room but at him. His expression was too much to bear.

"Well you admitted you love me," He said and tapped his riding crop on his side. "This was a very foolish thing to do, precious thing."

"Why's that?" Sarah crossed her arms over the low rise top of her nightgown. "You have no power over me."

"No, that is half true," He swooped in and spun her around in his arms so he was holding her against his chest, his arm around her waist, holding her tightly even as she struggled against him. "But I do have power over your little heart."

"You'd move the stars for this little heart," She said darkly. "Does that not also mean I have power over your heart, Goblin King?" The last part was mocking, though her words were honest.

Jareth was for a moment almost inclined to agree with her, but then he smirked. "My heart? Darling! I have no heart to have power over. Sweet of _my lover_ to think so." He buried his face in her hair, smelling her scent.

"So what do you want me to do, precious?" He asked. "If you love me so much you must not love your fiancée so well. Shall I bog him?" He laughed.

"Jonathon is a fine man; but he's only marrying me to help my father in his business. He's his business partner." She said.

"So how old is he then?" He laughed.

"Much younger then you." She said then sighed. "Thirty-five."

"You really do have a thing for the older men."

"Jareth," She sighed. Then stiffened. "Prove it."

"What precious?"

"Prove that you don't have a heart." She said. He grinned, though it was grim and sharp. Had Sarah been facing him it would have chilled the blood in her veins.

"I can be so cruel, precious." He said.

"You're all talk." She knew she was testing her boundaries, but she would rather suffer the consequences of his hurt pride then the delusions he bragged about his heart.

Jareth released her, even pushed her away. Sarah turned around and looked at him.

"Heart or not," She said. "I am your favorite." Jareth found he could agree with that.

"It's true; you are my favorite of pets. But why should this make me want to help you?"

"Did I ask for your help?" Sarah fumed. She was getting angry, Jareth found he very much liked her this way, and her face was absolutely adorable.

He raised an eyebrow. "You came into my chambers, kissed me, and said you loved me…"

"That's irrelevant." She interrupted.

He held up a gloved hand. "Said you loved me, vanish and now we're in a bubble. I say my love with your current _engagements_ you are in a great deal of misery and are in need of my help."

"That's your opinion," She said, then mirrored his expression with a dainty raised eyebrow. "If you mean help by getting rid of Reynolds then by all means, bog him for all I care." Sarah could feign carelessness better then anything else, it got her through life without much need to be where people wanted her to be. But Jareth could see through this easily.

He in turn feigned terror. "But conceiving children would be a fright! You will never be a mother Sarah with a husband who smells so like walking death."

"I wouldn't want to _mother_ any of his children." She grumbled. "Besides I wouldn't make a good mother."

"You would make a spectacular mother." The compliment slipped out before Jareth could stop it. For a moment Sarah only watched the ground then her eyes soared with a daring speed up to his eyes.

"You mean that Goblin King?" She asked. The mocking in her voice was gone, replaced with sincere curiosity. He pursed his lips, a tight line across his face.

"I do, but personal opinions of a villain aren't worth the time for the heroine." He raised a dark eyebrow.

"No, don't you do that," She said. "Stop."

"What, precious?" He was a rather sexy mess of sarcasm, but Sarah was having nothing of it, sexy or otherwise.

"You always have protected me, taught me right from wrong," She said. "No backing out now, help me."

He shut his eyes, his mind a cascading tangle of arguments. The words he said next came out in a sad sigh. "I am your slave my pet, I must do what you say."


	2. Chapter 2 Dragons have Been Bled

Chapter 2: Dragons have been Bled

Sarah smiled as kindly as she could to Jonathon who stood waiting at the open door for her while she slowly tackled the obstacle of her strappy heels. She was having difficulty with the buckle, and near delirious swearing at the top of her lungs she finally managed to hook the strap and seal the shoe firmly to her foot. Then she looked down at her other foot, naked and lonely and tackled the next heel, wondering if she should give up and hop to the restaurant where the function was being held. Karen and her father had left hours ago, meaning to be the first couple there to impress Robert's boss. Jonathon had intended to be there as quickly as possible but Sarah had other plans.

He was not oblivious to the fact that she really had no feelings for him; however he was unaware at how unpopular he really was in her book. They had been living in her apartment for thirteen months, cooperated well enough and from time to time even had what Sarah liked to call 'political sex.' But that's all it really was to either of them, and Sarah had never had another lover before and prided herself in knowing she would never know how real lovers felt. Not that she really cared of course; it was simply her idea of keeping her virginity, or at least a virgin's innocence. Physically she was not a virgin, but she might as well have been. They were a modern day working couple, both certain in their thoughts that they would be divorced within two years of marriage, but by that time that wouldn't matter. Sarah could go about her life the way she pleased having done her duty of elevating Jon in the only way she could by marrying him. Divorce might bring some negative opinions over his person but once the public saw that they were at the very least good friends after their marriage all negativities would disperse to the winds.

Sarah knew deep down in her core that all of this was very wrong and she really wanted no part in it at all. Sadly, for her, there were no other options left. Collage left her scrounging to pay loans, single as ever and so in deeply at a loss for organization that she lost all sense of balance. But when Jon and her father proposed the idea she had refused them almost instantly. However upon later consideration she agreed, with certain terms of course, and very soon after her loans were paid, her rent for her apartment paid in advance for two years and all her life was set back on track. Jon was not a fascinating person but he liked to listen to her talk, and they passed much of their time transferring stories from one to the other. He had a keen eye for grammar and spelling was second nature and he became the appointed editor of her stories. They worked as a good pair and very soon her first book came near completion.

He had sent it in for publication and a good eight thousand copies were sold, not as many as a thriving writer might hope to have but a good number for a first time writer. Her popularity was growing and the marriage seemed more then ever influential and positive for all those involved. Her book _The Emerald Queen _was a beautiful work, if a bit to fantastical for the public's taste, it was good.

"How much would I need to pay you to move quickly?" Jon asked.

Sarah sneered and finally managed to complete the strap on her shoe. "Move it or lose it." She said walking past him with a briskness only used to mock him. He rolled his eyes as he followed her. Jareth laughed as he watched the man' reaction to Sarah's spirit. He was seated on the couch in the living room, invisible to all but Sarah, who had been intent on ignoring him, having a grand old time watching the events of the evening play out. He was however slightly disgusted by Jon. He was a man of born rank, a rich trust-fund child of a great family and the spoiled behavior showed.

Sarah didn't seem altogether peeved by the man's insufferable habits, she fetched him what he needed when he asked for it, was kind to him on a blasé level and was so unequal to him that she never much realized he was ordering her around like a monarch. Jon himself it seemed was unaware of his own imperfections as a human being, though Jareth was certainly hyper-aware of it all.

Once left alone in the house he began to snoop, seeing as he was the King and no could tell him not to and what Precious didn't know wouldn't hurt her. At least that was his logic when he made the mistake of stumbling into her underwear drawer while 'searching.' He was wholly surprised at the contents of this drawer. He thought he wore a lot of lace and frills, but almost every article of clothing in there was laced up with a pretty design. He found one strange piece which consisted of two strings which didn't seem to fit the bottom half of any known creature. Puzzled he pocketed that piece for further contemplation. Next he tackled the giant box of photographs he found under the bed in a giant plastic crate.

He ended up sitting there for nearly three hours, going through every picture. He was somewhat able to decide which were pre-labyrinth and which posts were. There was a significant difference in the two varieties. Many of the pre depicted Sarah as a smiling innocent, no trouble in her eyes, no fear of greater things, only the longing for another world, the hunger to know. In the post it was a much different story. She stood taller, as if proud of herself. But her eyes held the strange glare of a deer looking up a giant raging bull, or better yet a unicorn looking up at the bull as legends read. Fearful, estranged to the mundane world around her, yet glorious in her success.

One picture had him surprised. It was an image of Sarah, maybe seventeen years old, in a blue low collar T-shirt with a black vest left unbuttoned. A young man had his arms wrapped around her waist lovingly. Sarah didn't look afraid in this picture if anything she looked slightly uncomfortable, with an awkward smile, arms layered over his, green eyes wary. Jareth looked at the boy carefully. He was blonde, his hair styled oddly, horridly untamable. The boy's clothes were dark jeans, a white T-shirt and a heavy leather jacket. He resembled Jareth.

"Oh Sarah," Jareth sighed and folded up the picture to slip into a pocket in his coat. He would sigh over that later. In truth he was worse then she was, he hadn't even tried to be close to anyone else. He had instead shunned all forms of female kind from his presence save a few goblins and some Fae. They were both horribly stubborn over each other. She at least had tried to date other people, even if they were near copies of Jareth.

Setting the photos aside Jareth moved to sit up on her bed, leaning against the frame he twirled crystals over his fingers to pass the time. It wasn't until near one in the morning that Sarah, alone made her trudging way into the house.

Jon had by choice decided to stay at his friend Cory's house, a choice Sarah liked. He had made himself pretty drunk that night, having more then what any ordinary person would consume. He wasn't a very good companion when he was drunk, so he usually crashed in a buddy's basement on those nights. Sarah hadn't had so much as a piece of cheese that evening and with a growling stomach, bleeding heals and a temper waiting to blow she was not in the mood to deal with a cocky king. So when she walked into the room and saw Jareth on her bed quite pleased with himself she made no comment, sat down on the edge of the bed and began the long process of removing her shoes. Jareth happily moved to encircle her body from behind, his long legs on either side of hers, arms sliding around her waist.

"So, how can we end my engagement?" Sarah asked, undisturbed by his action. This put him out. Pouting exaggeratedly he mumbled something incoherent to Sarah.

Then he cleared his voice and spoke aloud. "Well, we could dose him with gasoline."

"I don't think murder is necessary your majesty." She squealed in pain when she finally managed to tear the first shoe off her foot. Jareth untangled himself from around her and kneeled down to rub the heel of that foot with a tenderness Sarah scowled over.

"Let me deal with the next shoe." He said calmly. She didn't argue but Jareth could feel the tension in her when he began to unlace and slowly remove the shoe. "I never understood why fashion in this world had to come at such a painful cost. All Underground attire is meant to be comfortable first then fashionable next."

"I didn't pick these shoes." Sarah grumbled. "Karen did, for the parties I would have to go to. I haven't managed to get calluses yet so my feet still bleed after I wear them."

"All for the cost of fitting in."

"More like Jon will kill me if I make a mistake." Sarah wished the words hadn't escaped her mouth, but it was too late and the king looked up at her with clouded angry eyes.

"He doesn't hurt you does he?" His voice was dangerous, tripping over an anger she found almost amusing.

"Not that that is any of your concern, I am just a pet." Sarah said and pushed him out of her way to go to her closet.

Jareth remained on the floor watching her vanish into her closet. She reappeared holding a pile of clothes.

"I'm going to take a shower." She said and walked to the door, but she turned before leaving and gave him a flirtatious smile. "Next time you want to go through my underwear drawer, please ask before you take anything."

Jareth smiled darkly. "As you wish."

He couldn't help but cringe though when she left for the bathroom. How on earth had she known?

When Sarah returned Jareth had found the stationary on her desk and was writing a very long list.

"Fascinating your pens are," He said, turning to show her the little felt-tip pen he found. "You never need to refill the ink."

"I suppose it's an invention I take for granted." She said and dumped her dress on the floor in the dirty clothes pile. Jareth watched as she pulled down the sheets of her bed and fluffed up her pillows. Her pajamas were, sadly, very platonic, a baggy T-shirt of a deep blue color and comfortable shorts. The shorts at least were fitting.

"What are you writing?" She asked as she cuddled up under the blankets. She watched him with huge green eyes, curiosity brimming.

He smiled and said. "A list of things we could do to Jon."

"Do tell," Sarah begged. He saw her smile for the first time, a sleepy smile, but a smile all the same.

"Well, first off…" He continued into the night, listing violent act after violent act until Sarah dizzy from laughter and exhaustion fell asleep.

The next morning Sarah woke to find Jon asleep beside her. When he had come home she didn't know. Rolling over to face him, eyes still glued shut with sleep dust she mumbled a morning greeting.

"Hello to you too precious," Jareth's voice answered.

"Shit!" Sarah had never fallen out of bed before, but that morning was the first time. She didn't remember falling, or the impact, merely sitting on the ground, her butt cold against the wood floor, a laughing Goblin King peering down at her contentedly.

"For that, you make your own breakfast." She said. Getting up she stormed away like an angry kitten, her dark hair a mess of untamed curls on her head.

"Oh, precious," Jareth sighed. He looked at the place in the bed where she'd lain next to him. He smelled the pillow, catching her scent. He ran his ungloved fingers over the warm spot tenderly, and then rose a moment later to see where she'd gone. He found her in the kitchen a crinkling silver food parcel in her hands with the words pop tart written across them.

"What is that?" He didn't refrain from spilling out his disgust as she opened it up and pulled out a strange frosted pastry.

"A pop tart," She said. "What else?" The coffee maker started to simmer up and the dark brew filled the pot.

"It looks vile," He reached forward to poke it with a twitching finger.

"Did I ask for your opinion, your _high_ highness?" Sarah snorted and pulled the pastry from his poking-range. Taking a vicious bite she reached up to the top cabinet to fetch two mugs. "Want some coffee?"

"What?"

"You can't tell me they don't have coffee in Underground?" Sarah raised her eyebrows. Jareth snorted and broke off a piece of pop tart.

He held it between his forefinger and middle finger, eyeing it with a frank smile. "Let me try some."

She poured him the coffee, recovered her pop tart piece and got another one of the sugary delights for him to try.

They sat down at the kitchen table, across from each other. She watched as Jareth raised the mug to his lips and sipped the liquid. He put the cup back down. He looked up at her. He rose slowly and walked over to the sink, mug in hand. He opened his mouth and let the coffee spill free and then he proceeded to dump the rest of the coffee in his mug down the sink.

Sarah watched, blankly while he coughed and spat the stuff out of his mouth. Only when he set the mug in the sink and returned to his place at the table to poke at his pop tart did she speak.

"Well, you could've put the coffee you didn't drink back in the pot." She said.

"You enjoy drinking dirt?" He said.

"Try the pop tart," Sarah said and took a sip of the 'dirt'. "It makes the taste fade."

Jareth took a bite of the pop tart and chewed slowly. Sarah didn't need to guess his reaction to the taste when he literally darted across the kitchen and began to spit up the food.

"Blast this all!" He screamed and threw the rest of the pop tart on the floor. She thought he was going to do a ritual stomping of the nasty food dance until he raised a hand and let a stream of angry red magic burn the pop tart to dust. There was a lovely silhouette of the pop tart on her kitchen floor. She looked down at it and then back up at the angry king.

"Were you trying to poison me?" He whined. His eyes were wild and furious.

Sarah raised a lone eyebrow. "You're cleaning that up." She said and taking her pop tart and coffee she left he kitchen. Jareth stood there, slightly embarrassed. He went to the cabinet where he'd seen her fetch the pop tarts. He tapped the box and within the seconds passing a lazy goblin that slept in the Bog of Eternal Stench thanks to damnation from the king was the next victim of the curse of the sugary devils.


	3. Chapter 3 Make you Free

Chapter 3: Make you Free

The plan was set. Jareth smiled darkly at Sarah while she smoothed her hair down her back. There was a special business dinner that night, one where Jon was sure to get the promotion he wanted… so long as sweet little Sarah behaved. Which she fully intended not to. She and Jareth had spent the earlier days of that week fighting over pop tarts, for he wanted to destroy them and she wanted to digest them, plotting tricks against each other throughout the daily routine of Sarah leaving for work, returning, avoiding calls from Jon who was spending a great deal of nights away and planning the game of which they were brought together by. The purpose of that game was of course, to destroy all chances of Jon marrying Sarah. There were some obvious options available; however none would be so devastatingly fun as ending his charade of mischief in the business by trickery.

Sarah was dressed as beautifully and almost as virginally as she could have been. Her dress was white and her hair hung clean and long down her back. She put a silver chain with her mother's silver wedding ring and engagement ring on the end around her neck. Jareth made a compliment of the little pearl of her engagement ring, but Sarah only fondled the jewel lovingly in answer.

When Jon came to pick her up Jareth was already gone disguised as a biker a few houses down, watching them leave. Sarah had given him directions to the restaurant but he really didn't need them. He was the Goblin King after all.

"Remember to keep as quiet as possible," Jon was reminding Sarah while she leaned against the window, watching the street flash under them. "They still remember the time you spilled an entire wine bottle on the Boss."

"It was Corneille's fault anyway," she mumbled and stuck her tongue out at a man on a motorcycle passing them.

When she looked back at him Jon was shaking his head in disgust. "You really have no manners do you?"

"None worth bringing out to show off to a bunch of assholes," Sarah said. "I figure I should treat them just as they treat those they think lower then them."

Jon muttered something inaudible and they finally pulled up to the restaurant. Sarah waited in the car for him to come open her door, which he did and he escorted her inside, arm around her waist. She greeted Corneille and his wife with a civility and warmth that shocked Jon, and his reaction was not even hidden. He smiled and conducted his social activities happily, if only just greatly relieved. Eventually Sarah broke away from him with the excuse of having to go to the bathroom.

She was fumbling around in her purse when Jareth appeared beside her, frightening her so much that she dropped the little silver bottle she had been fumbling for. She scrambled for it and snatched it up from the floor. She was, in Jareth's opinion behaving the way a goblin would fuss over a favorite chicken.

"Is that a _flask_?" He took it from her.

Trying to snatch it back, without success, she said "Just for a kick, I can't handle these jerks without some." She clipped her finger on the lid, and it was sharp metal and it cut her finger. "Damn."

She clutched her own hand around the wrist, peering angrily at the bright blood dripping down from the deep slice in her flesh. Jareth sighed and mumbled something along the lines of _foolish angel_ and he popped the flask open and turned it upside down over the sink.

"Hey!" Sarah jumped at him trying to grab it but stopped short suddenly when something warm and wet enclosed around her bleeding finger. She turned slightly, afraid to look but only frowned at the sight of Jareth with his lips around her finger. She could feel his tongue moving over her cut. "Ouch." She said absently. The touch stung. But not just in the ordinary way as all deep cuts do. A scar reopened. She ripped her finger away, unaware of her own actions and she stepped back from him. She didn't even notice as he put the now empty flask back in her purse and look at her with a crooked grin, shining with malicious flirtation and a drop of her blood.

"You really shouldn't drink Sarah," he said and his tongue came out to lick his lips clean. "It's not good for one so young."

She snapped back into reality. "Right well, what do you care?" She turned to the mirror to smooth out her hair and fuss over herself to appear blasé. He came up behind her and moved his left arm around her waist, leaving his right arm free to comb through her dark hair slowly.

"I do care, poppet," He said. Then he released her and grinning broadly he said, "Let's set this plan in motion."

After she left the bathroom, shaken but not weak enough to back out of the plan, she took her place next to Jon at the circular table of associates, including her father and Karen, the Corneille's and three other couples all over middle aged or near there. The waiter who came to serve them was a tall wiry man with white-blonde hair jelled back into a pony-tail. He gave Sarah a surreptitious smile, one that could've been mistaken for a coy smirk. He poured a cup of red wine for her, though Sarah thought the smell that wafted from it resembled cranberry juice rather then any kind of alcohol and she gave the waiter a subtle dirty look. He moved to pour wine for Jon who was holding his cup up absently for him as he spoke with the mustached Mister Yearning. The waiter was a graceful fellow and he poured the wine, which oddly smelled like wine now, with one hand while he smiled gently at Sarah. She sipped her wine and gave him a sneer which he would've mirrored had it not been for the elbow of a passing server which knocked into his back with such a force that he poured the entire rest of the bottle out onto Jon's lap.

"Gah!"

"Forgive me, sir!" The waiter exclaimed and dropped a napkin in Jon's lap. He seemed, in Sarah's perspective about ready to laugh. Meanwhile, Jon looked at Sarah expectantly, but she had her arms crossed over her chest, watching the ordeal blankly. Then her expression changed.

"Yah!" She leaped up from her chair. "Something touched me!" She grabbed the waiter and jumped on the chair flashing her sparkly lingerie under her skirt, burying his face in her chest while she squealed. He wrenched himself free with little difficulty and Jon grabbed him. But the waiter was stronger and Jon was dragged under the table with him while Karen mirrored her step daughter in hollering, complaining of the same creature crawling over her feet. One by one each woman at the table leaped from their seats to their husband's laps or on their chairs, until the waiter and Jon reappeared from under the table, both soaked in wine and sweating.

"Where did it go?" Mrs. Corneille screamed.

"Ah!" Sarah's scream was louder then all the cries and all eyes turned to her. "It's up my skirt!" Indeed something was crawling around under her skirt.

Jon and the waiter both dove at her, knocking her off the chair. When those at the table stood to see where they landed all were in shock as they saw the display of Sarah's skirt pulled nearly up to her bra and Jon's hand tangled in her underwear.

"Oh my!" Karen squeaked turning a shade of pink.

"There it goes!" Yelled Corneille at the disappearing shadow of a small grey rodent running off toward the front doors of the restaurant.

Jon yanked down her skirt, rubbing his hand on his coat he pulled her up and dumped her on the chair.

"Jon? Jonny?" A male voice came from behind him. Everyone's heads turned to see.

"What? What is it now?" Jon turned around but stopped short. By first glance, the frilly youth in front of Jon looked like a slightly masculine girl, only in reality, as everyone simultaneously realized he was not a girl, yet he was a homosexual. Jon's eyes bugged out from his skull. "Reggie?" His voice had gone up a frightened twenty octaves.

"Jonny!" The boy threw himself into Jon's arms, crying delightfully.

"Sarah!" Corneille's voice rose over the growing confused din. "Who is this?"

Sarah whispered in the most delicate, hurt voice she could, while never breaking eye contact with the strange hug-fest between her fiancé and the gay youth, "I don't know! Jon? Jon!"

The man was struggling to remove himself from Reggie's arms. "Get out of here." He grumbled and turned his face away from Reggie. The boy frowned suddenly, an expression frightening on so gentle a face. His eyes met Sarah's and instantly he darkened in demeanor.

"That's her isn't it? The one you're going to marry."

"Well of course." Jon said fiercely. "I love her. Now get out of here before I call the cops!"

"Who is he Jon?" Sarah near shrieked banging a tiny fist on the table in a way one could call lady-like in its strength. Jon whirled around, now free of Reggie's grip and yelled, "He's no one Sarah!"

"I'm his boyfriend." Reggie declared and everyone went dead silent and looked at him.

Then from out of the silence a dry whisper cut the air like a knife. "So… you were spending all those nights away with him?"

Jon's color darkened dramatically, enough to cause a gasp to come from Karen and the other ladies at the table, all but Sarah who, grimly smiling, stood and faced Jon directly. A crack split the silence and then Sarah was walking away, a flash of white and dark brown.

When she had walked a good way down the block she turned into an alley and collapsed into a fit of giggles and laughter, which were joined by Waiter Jareth's laughter within seconds of her explosion.

"Oh my goblin! Where on earth did you find his boyfriend?" She asked between gasps.

Jareth rolled his eyes and leaned on the wall for support while he chuckled, "It wasn't difficult once you told me he was spending so many nights away. You knew he was gay?"

"He was very subtle about it, though I don't think he is totally homosexual. He's bisexual for certain. He has a girlfriend too."

Jareth frowned but made no comment, he was watching Sarah with a peculiar expression, and one that had she not been so giddy would've frightened her. It was a sincere concerned expression, chilling in its beauty on his angular face, so much so that she found herself saying, "You really should wear your emotions on your face more it's better looking."

"You think I look good?" He said, tilting his head and smiling wildly.

"Ha ha," She said and rolled her eyes. Then she frowned. "How am I going to get home?"

He made a mock frown then pressed his gloved finger on the frown line between her eyebrows. "I think I have a way."

The door was opened slowly. Then shut as silently as possible. A staggering man came into the hall, drunk and very, very angry. He pushed back his sweaty hair from his eyes, licked his lips and followed the sounds of a girl humming a tune. He came to the girl's bedroom where she was putting away a white dress, having changed into shorts and a T-shirt.

"You are a clever bitch." He said. He shut the door behind him and locked it. He stumbled in taking a step toward her, but regained his balance and smiled.

Jareth was having a happy time, enjoying himself a bit too much whilst rummaging through Sarah's underwear drawer. He could hear her humming in the kitchen with his sharp ears and he was laughing at her chosen melody: the Fiery dance.

"…when your thing gets wild, chilly down, chilly down, with the fire gang…" He heard her sing.

"You really have not changed have you, precious thing?" He mused and grinned at a very lacey garment, all black, with a small string of pearls hanging from the front. _How quaint,_ he thought.

He didn't notice at first when she stopped humming, or when the sounds of a slobbering drunk man near-crawling into the house. Only when he heard the first punch did he pause in his panty raid and listen, hard, to the sounds coming from the other sides of the house.

A loud crack and a soft squeal.

A hard smack and then: "You rotten bitch!"

Jareth dropped the underwear and sprinted for the kitchen.

"You rotten bitch!" Jon's hand came down on her face again, though she was wrestling with him to break away from the counter he'd cornered her in, she just wasn't stronger then him. As a sprinkling of static pain peppered her puffing cheek she pushed against Jon and managed to break free. Just as she was darting for the entry way his hand grasped her leg and she tumbled downward, hitting the floor and sending a glass she'd knocked from the counter she was passing crashing down to the floor beside her. Her hand came down on the broken glass as Jon dragged her across the floor. He flipped her over so she was on her back and she was met with his red, enraged face.

"You ruined everything for me!" A painful jab to the cheek came after the declaration. Sarah swung her leg up, managing to hit his groin. Free, she scrambled and crashed into…Jareth? Eyes wide she started to cry, but the back of her shirt was snatched in Jon's hold and she was thrown across the room, into the corner of the counter.

Jon suddenly silenced his enraged screams, frozen he rubbed his eyes in disbelief. There was a grand creature, all in leather, lightning-flamed hair and even more dangerous eyes in his kitchen. The creature's expression was monstrous; Jon had never seen more anger on a face then he did then. The man moved across the room, not touching Jon, though he could feel the fire's heat on his skin, and picked up Sarah's limp body.

Then, with the girl hanging over his arms, her head cradled on his shoulder the frightening demon spoke: "You shall never touch her ever again. And if you do it will be the last thing you ever do."

Then to his horror the man and Sarah vanished into the air, leaving only a cloud of glitter that fell to the floor and vanished.

"Come on Sarah," Jareth rubbed her cheek with his hand, and then smacked it gently, trying to revive her. So far she was not responding. He had taken them to his castle, the tower in which he kept his secret chamber to be exact. There he had put a bed and a few trinkets about the room, yet he had never really used it for anything up until that time. Now, he sat beside the bed, washing the cuts she had on her back and arms and trying to calm the swelling lumps on her head. The sight of her mangled body was enough for Jareth to be sure with himself: Jon would suffer from this. And Jareth would, if it were in his power, never let any other bastard hurt his girl again.

**Please review my goblins!**


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